


Dear Avenger

by Celcey



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Gen, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is Harry Potter, The Red Skull is Lord Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celcey/pseuds/Celcey
Summary: Dear Avenger,We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.Yours sincerely,Phillip CoulsonDeputy Headmaster---Or: the Avengers receive their Hogwarts letters.





	1. Steve and Bucky: Hidden Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is an idea I've had on the back burner for a while now. I've read a couple of Avengers at Hogwarts AUs, some of which were really good but none of which were complete, so I started to write my own. These first few chapters will focus on Bucky and Steve getting their letters, as well as their subsequent trip to Diagon Alley. Whether I'll continue after finishing Steve and Bucky's part remains to be seen.
> 
> I'd like to note that, despite this being a Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU, not everything nor everyone will have a perfect parallel, so please be aware.
> 
> Enjoy!

All his life, or at least as long as he can remember, Steve has been sick. One of his earliest memories is lying in a hospital bed trying to hack his lungs out. The asthma at least had mostly gone away over the years, thanks to the mediation Steve was on. Steve's mother was a nurse, so she had access to special drugs most people couldn't get. The medicine was very expensive, Steve knew, because whenever she looked into the cabinet and saw they were running low on bottles of kelly green liquid, her face got this nervous, pinched look and Steve knew it had to do with supporting both of them on a single nurse's salary.

Because the medicine was so expensive and rare, Steve wasn't allowed to talk about it to anyone. Not even Nurse Halpern, the kind, matronly nurse of his school. Steve knew Nurse Halpern very well because he was so often in her office, and not just because of his asthma, or his heart palpitations, or his frequent vulnerability to colds and flus.

The truth was, Steve's trips to Nurse Halpern weren't always because he was sick at all, although he often was. As often as not, Steve would show up with a black eye and a split lip, limping into the office with the help of his best friend, Bucky Barnes. Steve was small for his age, but everybody knew better than to bully someone when Steve and Bucky were around. Steve was very determined, and no amount of bruises or bumps would deter him from helping someone in need. And wherever Steve Rogers was, Bucky Barnes was sure to follow.

Bucky was much taller than Steve, and much bigger. People often thought Steve was younger than he was, and they always thought Bucky was older. Although they didn’t look much alike, they were so often together that people sometimes thought Bucky was Steve’s older brother. This amused Bucky and angered Steve, who was sensitive about how young and frail he looked.

Bucky was also he only person outside of Steve and his ma that knew about the kelly green bottles that lined their cabinets. He also knew about the special bruise paste that came in the plain white jar and was a magnificent shade of purple. Goodness knows he had used it enough times, grumpily patching Steve up when his ma was working late shifts at the hospital.

Bucky and Steve had been friends since the Rogers' had moved into the little apartment that had once belonged to Steve’s grandmother. Although Steve had been born in Brooklyn, he had lived in a different neighborhood until was a little over a year old, when his father had been killed in action. Ma had moved back home to the Brooklyn neighborhood she’d grown up in. Privately, Steve thought it was because she couldn't bear to be in the house she had intended to make a life in with his father.

Steve's father had become a topic of much interest for Steve and Bucky as of late. Steve had always loved hearing Ma talk about him, about how he was brave and strong and caring. But a little over a month ago, Steve had been sleeping over at Bucky's place when they had overheard Mr. and Mrs. Barnes talking about it, not knowing the Steve and Bucky were wide awake and listening through the cracked door.

"It's all just so horrible. It would have been their 15th anniversary tonight, did you know? I didn't say anything, but I suspect that's why Sarah wanted Steve to stay over, the poor woman. She still loves him, you can just see it in her eyes. Did you ever know him, George?"

"Not in the least. Truth be told, I hardly knew Sarah before she moved back here. She's younger than me, so we never really crossed paths much. I remember the scandal when she got married though. Right after she graduated from that fancy boarding school she went to. That was just before we moved back to Brooklyn, and Mom called me long-distance just to tell me all about it."

"Goodness knows your mother loves her gossip. I still remember when she moved back into the neighborhood with Steve- he was such a tiny little thing. Three years old, but Lord he didn't look it. The rumors that flew- I'm ashamed to say I was starting to believe some of them when we met her, do you remember?"

George chuckled. "How could I not? As if Bucky would ever let anyone forget the story of the day he met Steve. But yes, those were some nasty rumors indeed. I never believed them much myself. I didn't know Sarah very well, but she was always very sweet, very polite. Cutest little girl you've ever seen, except for Becca. Smart, too. She had a full scholarship to that boarding school, and they recruited her- she never applied or anything."

"Well of course once I knew her I knew none of the dreadful things anyone said about her were true, although I did wonder for a while if, for all she spoke of Joseph, he might have left her when Steve was born so sickly... as if a baby isn't responsibility enough, and they were so young..." Winnifred trailed off.

"But of course that wasn't it. He was a soldier, wasn't he?" George asked.

"Something like that. I don't remember exactly, I think he might have worked for the government... It was something fairly classified, I think, because Sarah almost never talks about it. I think she may have been involved with whatever it was, though. You know she's said she'd always wanted to be a nurse, but she didn't go to school for it until after she moved here?"

"Honestly Winnie, now who's telling crazy stories? Sarah, involved in that sort of work? Little Sarah Rogers, tangled up in that mess, imagine... There's plenty of reasons she might not have gone to school right after she graduated. Might not have been able to afford it, for one."

"Mmm, maybe. I always got the impression Joseph was fairly well off. I know he left an inheritance for Steve, Sarah told me she had to use some of it to support them while they she was in school."

"Might be his folks didn't like her. They died, didn't they? While she was pregnant with Steve?" George asked.

"They did. It's certainly a possibility." Winnifred conceded.

"If you ask me, the whole thing's better put behind us. The rumors when Sarah moved back... old Mrs. Karloff saying that Mrs. Casey had never even seen the baby, implied Sarah had poisoned her to get the apartment. It's madness. I think it's very sensible of her that Sarah never mentioned the specifics of the mess to Steve, unlike some woman who'll use their kids as a sounding board to complain and gossip."

"And you don't sound bitter a bit, dear." They both laughed. "She's going to have to tell him sometime, though. She can't protect him forever, and Steve's always standing up to bullies... I'm surprised no one's ever tried to confront him about it already. Nasty things, people used to say."

"I think Sarah's hoping Steve will be accepted to her old school. Get him away from from all this. She'll have to tell him the truth of it eventually, but considering the murderer got away... well, you know what Steve's like. His father killed in his own house, and the man was never caught (or woman, if you're Mrs. Karloff)... Supposedly he was gravely injured, but Sarah thinks he's still out there, somewhere, biding his time. Steve would never rest until he caught the man, and got himself killed along the way. No, I think she's wise to keep it from him, at least until he's old enough to stop running headlong into every fight."

"Still, it'd be better for her to hear it from her than some awful rumor, and you know how people like to talk." She got up, collecting the now empty tea cups they had been drinking from while they chatted. "Goodness George, look at the time. We'd better be getting off to bed, the children have school tomorrow."

The conversation petered out as Mrs. Barnes washed the dishes and put them on the rack to dry. Only when the bedroom door had shut behind her did Steve dare turn over. Bucky was staring at him, white faced and open mouthed. Steve shivered, even under the thick blanket Mrs. Barnes always made him use when he slept over, on account of his poor circulation.

"Come here. Sleep in my bed tonight." Bucky whispered, still pale but not quite so terrified. Nothing shook Bucky out of a stupor quite like needing to take care of Steve.

For once, Steve didn't argue. Although they both liked to pretend they were getting too old to share a bed, tonight they were glad for the company.

"Killed. My father was killed." Steve thought to himself. "No... not killed. Murdered."

Steve had always known that his father had died to protect people, but when he had pictured his father’s death, it had always been something heroic but non-specific. Like jumping on a grenade to save his team, or taking a bullet meant for someone else. He had never imagined that someone might have singled him out to murder him.

"Steve..." Bucky whispered pleadingly. "Steve.... I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't know."

"S'okay Buck. How could you have?" Yes, Steve thought bitterly. How could Bucky have known when his own mother hadn't thought enough of him to tell him the truth? How could she speak so often of how important it was to be honest when she had been keeping this secret from him all this time?

"Steve, you won't go after him, will you? Steve, you have to promise! Promise you won't go after the man who killed your father!"

Steve looked at Bucky, surprised, but Bucky looked panicked. "Steve please, you have to promise me you won't go after him!"

"Buck, of course I won't!" Steve said, slightly alarmed by Bucky's panic. Bucky was a lot better at keeping his cool than Steve was. Although he would never admit it, seeing Bucky look so scared made Steve's stomach squirm. "Come on Bucky, of course I won't go after him. And even if I did, I would wait till we're adults."

Steve hesitated, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say. "If I did go after him- not now, when we're all grown up! But if I did go after him then... would you come with me?"

"Course I would, ya stupid punk. You'd need someone to watch your back, make sure you don't get into any crazy trouble. 'Sides, I'm with you to the end of the line, pal." Bucky clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Come on, let's get to sleep. Ma'll kill us if she finds out we've been up this late."

"Sure. Night Buck."

"Night Steve."

Steve rolled over, relief coursing through him. He’d known that Bucky would back him up no matter what, but it felt good to hear him say it. Although he would never in a million years admit it, Steve slept a lot better knowing that Bucky was next to him- now and till the end of the line.

\---

The topic of Steve's father held the boys attention for nearly a month. Bucky was especially grateful for it when Steve caught the flu right after the school year ended. It gave Steve something to think about other than the fever, and the chills and the aches that came with it.

"I don't know how you do it." Bucky said feux-grumpily on the fourth day of Steve's illness. He was finally starting to regain some color, and he was propped up against some pillows to eat the broth Bucky had brought over from his mother. "S'the first week of summer vacation, and I had to spend it lookin' after your sorry bum."

"Least it's now and not next week. I'd hate to be sick on my birthday." Steve said reasonably. The silent again went unspoken, because they don't talk about Steve's tenth birthday. Ten was a really big deal, the double digits- and Steve had spent it in the hospital so sick that Bucky hadn't evan been allowed into the room to see him. He'd spent his Fourth of July sitting terrified in the hospital waiting room, his whole family gathered around him. It wasn't the first time Bucky had been forced to face the fact that his best friend might die. But it had been by far the worst.

"Yeah, well, I'd hate to have to spend the Fourth inside because of you, so make sure it doesn't happen. Bad enough we're stuck in here on our first week of summer vacation." He groused, trying to push aside the awful image of Steve so pale and still Bucky thought he might have already been dead.

"You don't have to, Buck. I wouldn't be upset if you want to go outside and play with the other kids." Steve said it so earnestly, Bucky almost believed him. The offer was genuine, he knew. But he also knew that Steve would get pitiably mournful the second he was out the door.

"And who's gonna rub cream on your chest if I'm not around? There's a reason your ma gave me that responsibility!" Bucky said, puffing his chest out proudly. "'Sides, s'no fun if you're not out there with me."

(And if Bucky pretended not to notice the way Steve relaxed back into the pillows when Bucky decided to stay, well, that was nobody's business but his own.)

"Well I can promise that my birthday this year will be interesting, at least. Dr. Erskine's coming over for dinner." Steve said, smiling as he put the now empty broth bowl aside. "You'll finally get to meet him."

Dr. Erskine was an old friend of Steve's parents. According to his mother, he had been her favorite teacher at school. Steve didn't know for sure, but he suspected Dr. Erskine was also the one who procured several of the exclusive medications he took. Dr. Erskine's visits had coincided with the restocking of Steve's medicines too often for it to be just a coincidence.

Bucky blanched at Steve's words, and Steve struggled to sit up, brow creased in confusion. Automatically, Bucky reached over to adjust the pillows for him. "What's the matter Buck? I thought you wanted to meet Dr. Erskine."

It was true. Steve talked about the good doctor as an almost grandfatherly figure, who always had an interesting story to tell, and snuck Steve the most marvelous treats when his mother wasn't looking. Steve always saved half to share with Bucky because they could never find Cauldron Cakes or Pumpkin Pasties in the stores, no matter how hard they looked, though Dr. Erskine swore he didn't make them.

"Yeah." Bucky said, scuffing his shoes against the floor and looking anywhere but Steve. "But I've been thinking... what if he wants to offer you a place at his school, now that you're eleven? Isn't that when your ma went?"

"Yeah," said Steve, who had privately been hoping the same thing. "So what?"

"So it's a boarding school, that's what!" Bucky burst out, finally meeting Steve's eye. "What am I gonna do if you go off to some fancy punk school without me?"

His tone was decidedly bitter, and Steve blinked in surprise. He hadn't thought of that. When he had imagined what it might be like to explore the castle his mother had told him so many stories about, it hadn't occurred to him that Bucky might not be there with him. If he had given it any thought, he supposed that he would have imagined Bucky with him, because Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were never one without the other.

"Well..." Steve said slowly, brow still creased, "I guess we'll have to make sure he accepts you too then. You're smart, your grades are good. There's no reason they shouldn't accept you."

"You're grades are better." Bucky mumbled shamefacedly. It was something he'd heard no end of from his mother. "Your GPA is higher."

"Well that's because my grades are more even overall. But my best class is art, and you always beat me in math and science." Steve said fairly. "You just do bad in English because you don't try. You could do loads better if you wanted to."

"What if they don't see that at Dr. Erskine school?" Bucky asked desperately.

"Then we'll make them see it." Steve said determinedly. "I've told Dr. Erskine lots about you- how you're brave and loyal, and how you always help me with bullies and take care of Becca and help with my chores, and those things are much more important than a bad English grade."

Steve had on what Bucky liked to call the Steve Rogers is Determined Face. It was the face he made when he saw anybody getting bullied or cheated or picked on. It was a face that made Bucky a little bit proud (because of just how good Steve was) and a little bit nervous (because usually that face meant Steve was going to get beat up real soon, which meant that Bucky was going to have to get him out of it). Bucky relaxed just slightly. When Steve got like this, there was no stopping him.

"Besides, we can show that you're not really bad at English, you just didn't like it 'cause the books were boring and it was stuff we already know. You’ve read Huck Finn, and that's way above a sixth grade level- you've just gotta be interested. I'll bet Dr. Erskine will let you write a report on Huck Finn, and then he'll see that Mrs. Hamilton just wasn't a very good teacher. You're grammar's real good too, when you pay attention to it, and I can help you with the spelling. They'll have to accept you then."

Steve was rambling, but Bucky didn't mind. It was just like Steve to come up with a plan like this, and he would do it too. Steve had spent hours working with Bucky before, dictionary in hand, helping him find the right word for every thought and checking that everything was spelled correctly. It made him feel better, but not entirely.

"But what if they don't? What if I'm just not what they're looking for?" Bucky said anxiously. It was what his mother had said to Becca she had been rejected by the talent agency she had auditioned for. 'It's not that you were bad, sweetheart. You just weren't what they were looking for.'

"Well then I won't go." Steve said, crossed his skinny arms over his skinnier chest, his face set. "If they're not lookin' for you, they're not lookin' for me. We're a package deal."

Relief washed over him, chasing away the last of the doubt. Steve was stubborn like a mule. If he said he wasn't going without Bucky, he wasn't going without Bucky.

(And if Steve pretended not to notice the way Bucky relaxed back into his chair when Steve said he'd stay, well, that was nobody's business but his own.)


	2. Steve and Bucky: The Best Kind of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky are a package deal, Steve learns about his parents, and Sarah Rogers is so, so proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the second chapter. It took me a while to get out, because I tend to write in small spurts late at night. It's a long chapter, so hopefully that makes up for the wait. I've also decided, that since the next bit of Steve and Bucky's story would be their trip to Diagon Alley, that this part of their story will be temporarily complete. The next chapter, when it comes, will be someone else receiving their Hogwarts letter. Probably Natasha, but possibly someone else. 
> 
> Either way, enjoy!

It had been an excellent birthday. The Barnes' had taken Steve, Bucky, and Bucky's little sister Becca to the Bronx Zoo. It was crowded because of the holiday, but also extremely enjoyable. Becca had been too young to remember the last time they had gone, and Steve and Bucky had almost as much fun watching her run from exhibit to exhibit as they did seeing the animals themselves.

Still, both boys were glad to be dropped off at the Rogers house. The moment they were in the door Sarah was upon them, telling Bucky to drop his overnight bag in Steve's room and get right in the shower.

"Dr. Erskine will be here in an hour, and I'd like you both to smell as if you haven't spent the day rolling around with the animals. Steve, set the table with the fine china please, it's a very special night." Somehow, Mrs. Rogers managed to rush them into their chores without ever losing the gentle tone so beloved by her patients. Steve and Bucky had privately agreed that Mrs. Rogers would make an excellent army general should she ever care to do so.

In what seemed like no time at all, Steve and Bucky had been scrubbed within an inch of their lives, their hair was neat, the table was set, and everything smelled delicious. The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Rogers smiled.

"Go and get that, will you Stevie?" She called from the kitchen as she pulled the roast out of the oven.

Steve ran to the door, Bucky at his shoulder. He pulled open the door, and there stood Dr. Erskine, grinning broadly. He was an older man, balding, with a short beard and round glasses. His eyes twinkled as he looked down at Steve and Bucky.

"Steven, it is a pleasure to see you. I'm sure you must hear this often, but my how you have grown." Steve's chest puffed out proudly. Dr. Erskine was wrong, people rarely commented on how Steve had grown, because more often than not he hadn't. Privately, Bucky thought it was nice of him to say, since it clearly made Steve happy. "And this must be Mr. Barnes- I've heard a great deal about you, young man. It is a pleasure to meet you at last."

He held out his hand, and Bucky shook it. "Just Bucky is fine, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you too." He grinned charmingly and hoped Dr. Erskine wouldn't notice that his palms were slightly clammy. He really wanted to make a good first impression, in case Dr. Erskine was here to ask Steve to come to his school.

"Bucky it is then." Said Dr. Erskine cheerfully as he stepped inside the apartment. "Ah, that smells wonderful. Sarah's doing I am sure."

"Dr. Erskine," Steve said hopefully, "is that for me?" He pointed at the package Erskine had under one arm. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, and tied up with string.

"Ah, this? No no no. This is an item I am returning to your mother." Dr. Erskine said airily.

"You're lying!" Steve exclaimed excitedly. "It has my name on the card!"

"What? You are mistaken. There is no name on the card." Dr. Erskine said, tucking the package securely under his arm so that the card was hidden from view. He was saved from further interrogation by the entrance of Mrs. Rogers.

"Abraham, it's so good to see you." Sarah said warmly, kissing him on the cheek. "You're right on time, I just pulled out the roast. Let me wash up, and then we'll eat. Steve, show Dr. Erskine where he can put his hat and coat and then show him to the table please. Bucky, please come and help me bring the food out."

In short order, the four of them were gathered around the dining room table, talking, laughing, and complimenting Mrs. Rogers' excellent cooking. Dr. Erskine seemed equally interested in both Steve and Bucky's thoughts, which gave Bucky hope that Dr. Erskine might indeed want to offer him a place at his school.

Finally, when all of them had assured Mrs. Rogers that they couldn't eat another bite no matter how delicious, they moved into the sitting room for tea and desert. They sang happy birthday over the beautiful cake Mrs. Roger had made- strawberries and cream, Steve's favorite- decorated red, white, and blue in honor of the Fourth of July. Finally, as the boys relaxed into the cushy loveseat, sipping their tea lazily, Dr. Erskine put down his cup and straightened his jacket.

"So Steven, eleven is a big age." He said seriously. "A very important age. Do you know why?"

Steve licked his lips nervously and glanced at Bucky, who sat up very straight. "Is it because eleven is the age you can start at your school?"

"Very good. Yes Steven, that is correct. The school I teach at is called Hogwarts. I'm sure you know that both of your parents were students there. In fact, it is how they met and where they fell in love." Dr. Erskine said, taking another sip of his tea.

Steve nodded. He knew this, although he realized now that his mother had never actually told him what the school was called.

"Hogwarts is a very special school. There are certain... criteria students must meet in order to be accepted." Dr. Erskine continued. Steve and Bucky glanced at each other apprehensively.

"What sort of criteria? Is it just grades? Because you know, grades aren't always a good judge of how smart someone is. I know lots of kids who are really smart but get bad grades because they don't test well, or because they aren't interested in the subject, even if they know their stuff." Steve said nervously.

"This is true, but the quality that Hogwarts looks for is something that is innate. You see Steven, Hogwarts is a school of magic." Steve stared at him quizzically.

"Magic? But there's no such thing as magic!" He turned to his mother. "You can't do magic... can you?"

In response, Sarah pulled out a thin stick of wood and tapped the white linen tablecloth they used for special occasions. It turned blue, with a pattern of white stars. Steve and Bucky gaped at it incredulously. She tapped it again, and it returned to normal.

There was silence for a moment as Steve and Bucky stared first at Mrs. Rogers, then at Dr. Erskine, and then back at Mrs. Rogers. Both were smiling kindly at them.

"So... so there are people who can do magic? Just normal people, nurses and lawyers and stuff, who can do magic? And I can too?" Steve asked a little breathlessly. 

"You are half right. While there are many witches and wizards in the world, they do not generally work in muggle jobs- muggle meaning people who cannot do magic. Your mother is the rare exception, and that was primarily in order to keep you safe."

"Keep me safe? Why?" Steve asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"That, Steven, is a very complicated question." Dr. Erskine said, rubbing his forehead. "It is a story that begins many years ago, with a man named Johan Schmidt.

"He was a wizard like yourself. He was a very good wizard, but more importantly, he was a bad man. He believed that wizards were superior to muggles, and that he was superior among wizards. So he began seeking out followers, men who believed in the same things that he did." He paused the story to shake his head morosely.

"Did he find them?” Steve asked, curious and wide eyed. "Followers, I mean?"

Yes." Dr. Erskine said simply. "And he became very powerful for it. But the things he did turned him from someone very bad to something much much worse. He become something almost inhuman. He felt he was beyond a mere mortal's name, so he called himself the Red Skull. And one Halloween night almost a decade ago, in his mad quest for power, he came to the house you and your parents were living in."

Sarah drew a sharp breath. Everyone turned to look at her- Erskine in kindness, Bucky and Steve in surprise. They had almost forgotten she was there.

"I'll tell him from here Abraham, thank you. Steve deserves to hear it from me." Her voice was quiet, and as gentle as it always was, but there was an tremble to it Steve had heard only a handful of times before.

"The Red Skull came to our house. Your father had just gone upstairs to put you to bed. I was in the sitting room, and I didn't have my wand, and-" she blinked tightly and drew a deep, trembling breath "he knocked me aside. I think he planned to kill me later, because I'm muggleborn- that is, my parents are non magical- and he hated muggleborns almost as much as muggles. But his first priority was to kill you, Steve."

Steve gasped. Beside him, he heard Bucky's breath hitch. "Kill me? But why would he want to kill me? I was only a baby!"

Sarah shook her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Whether because she didn't know the answer or because she didn't want to tell him, Steve wasn't sure. "After he knocked me aside, he went upstairs, and your father... he didn't have his wand, but he tried to protect you, he begged the Red Skull to spare your life... but he just laughed. And he killed your father."

Under the table, Steve found Bucky's hand and squeezed. Bucky squeezed back just as hard. "So he's the one who murdered Dad in our house? The Red Skull?"

"Yes, but- how did you know your father was murdered?" Mrs. Rogers asked, her brow furrowed. At this, Steve blushed slightly. Bucky's hand went very still in his.

"We overheard Mr. and Mrs. Barnes talking about it a few weeks ago." Steve said, somewhat shamefacedly. "But we weren't eavesdropping, honest! The door was open and we could just hear them!"

"Oh Steve, I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. I just wish you hadn't had to find out that way." She came around the table, and pulled Steve into the tightest hug of his life. He squeezed back just as hard.

"But Ma, why didn't you ever tell me? Why lie and say Dad was killed in action?" Steve said, a few tears leaking into his mother's dress.

"Your father was killed in action." Sarah said, pulling back enough so that Steve could look her in the eye. "He spent the last years of his life doing everything he could to defeat the Red Skull during the Great Wizarding War. We both did."

Steve gaped at her. "You? You were involved too? Were you a nurse for the war effort?"

Dr. Erskine chuckled, and Sarah smiled. "As a matter of fact, Steven, your mother is quite a talented witch in her own right. She was at the top of her class at Hogwarts. She became a nurse after the war, when she returned to the muggle world."

"Why'd you do it?" Steve asked her breathlessly. "Why'd you come back here and pretend to be a muggle?"

"To protect you.” Sarah began gently, running her fingers through his hair. “After the Red Skull vanished, his followers were angry and scared. No one knew what was happening, only that it was you who had stopped him. There were some who believed- some who still might- that if you were killed he might come back."

"And there are dangers that come with growing up in a world where you are famous before you can walk or talk. Famous before you even know your own name." Dr. Erskine added with a knowing smile.

"I'm famous?" Steve looked from his mother to the doctor as if he expected someone to jump up and shout 'April fools!' But nobody did. "And what do you mean, I stopped him? How could I have stopped the Red Skull?"

"Ah, that is the mystery, is it not?" Dr. Erskine said with a mysterious smile. "No one is quite sure how or why, but when the Red Skull tried to kill you- to commit the act of murder on an innocent child- it did not work, though he had done it countless times before. The spell rebounded on him instead, and he was vanquished. But not without leaving his mark, I think."

He tapped Steve on his chest, right over his heart. "That's where- that's how?"

Dr. Erskine nodded. "Indeed, that is how you got that excellent scar on your chest."

Steve gaped. The scar was one of the few things he liked about his appearance, for Steve was very small and skinny. It was in the shape of a perfect, five-pointed star, directly over his heart.

"And now, Steven, I think you have waited long enough. It is time you read your letter." And from inside his coat pocket, Dr. Erskine pulled out a thick parchment envelope. Steve took it with trembling hands. It was addressed to him, Mr. S. Rogers, in emerald green ink. There was a beautiful purple wax seal on the front, and Steve had to take a moment to steady his hands so he could slip his nail under the seal, and open the letter without breaking it. He pulled out the first letter.

"Dear Mr. Rogers," he read aloud, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Philip Coulson, Deputy Headmaster."

Hands trembling again, Steve pulled out the second letter. His eyes went wide. "Am I really going to get all this stuff? A cauldron and a wand and everything?"

"Everything and more." Sarah promised. "Dr. Erskine will take you into the city to buy everything tomorrow."

"Can you get all of this in Manhattan?" Steve asked eagerly.

"If you know where to go." said Dr. Erskine with a knowing smile.

Throughout all of this, Bucky had not said a word. It all made sense. Of course Steve was a wizard, of course Steve was special- if there was anyone in the world who deserved to be special, it was Steve Rogers. But that hadn't stopped the sinking feeling in his gut as the conversation wore on. There was no way Steve could reject his acceptance to Hogwarts. This wasn't just a school, this was magic, and somehow Bucky didn't think they had a school like that in Brooklyn. Maybe not even in the whole of New York City. So Bucky made up his mind.

Maybe the Bucky Barnes is Determined Face wasn't as good as the Steve Rogers version, but he could be stubborn if he wanted to. Steve was going to Hogwarts, and that was that.

Decision made, Bucky plastered a smile on his face. "Well, well, well, aren't you grand? Going off to learn magic- I always knew you were special Stevie, but this is a whole new level, even for you."

Immediately, Steve froze, booklist forgotten. "Bucky-" he began, but Bucky cut him off.

"Make sure when you come home for vacations you show me all the cool things you learn- pulling rabbits outta hats an all that." Bucky said, trying to sound genuinely happy for Steve, because he was, he was- it was just hard to find that happiness under the bitter feeling of being left behind.

"Dr. Erskine," Steve pleaded. "Dr. Erskine, can't Bucky come too? I can't- I won't- go without him. Bucky'd be a great wizard, he's so smart and you're always telling me that you're looking for qualities beyond the physical- and Bucky is brave and loyal, and he would be a great wizard if you just gave him the chance, I just know he would!"

Dr. Erskine blinked in surprise, but before he could speak, he was cut off by Bucky. "Stevie, you heard the man. Magic is intrinsic, it's not something you can learn. You either got it or you don't, and I ain't got it. But you can't blow your shot at this for me, Steve, I won't let you."

"No. I said I wasn't going without you, and I meant it." Steve said firmly, arms crossed.

"That was before we knew this was a school for magic Steve- magic! It's right there in the name, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You have to go!" Bucky argued.

"No! Not without you!"

"I ain't gonna let you blow your shot-"

"This isn't your call to make-"

"It is if you're doing it for me!"

Both boys were standing now, arms crossed and glaring at each other. Bucky had a good five inches and 30 pounds on Steve, but you wouldn't know it from the way Steve stood his ground. His letter crumpled slightly from how tightly he was gripping it.

"Mr. Barnes, Steven." Dr. Erskine said, interrupting their glaring contest. "I am afraid this misunderstanding is my fault. Mr. Barnes will be accompanying you to Hogwarts, Steven, because he is a wizard himself." And from his pocket, he pulled another thick, parchment envelope, identical to Steve's but for the name written in emerald ink:

Mr. J. Barnes  
Apartment 2B  
The Leftmost Bedroom  
Brooklyn, New York

The boys gaped first at the letter, then up at Dr. Erskine.

"It is interesting to note," Dr. Erskine added with a smile as he handed Bucky the envelope, "that of all of the children in your school, the two of you found each other. It is my experience that like finds like. Wizards find wizards, but more importantly, good men find each other."

Bucky held the letter like it was the Holy Grail, glancing at Steve, who wore a similar expression of awe. Bucky tore into it eagerly, not caring if he broke the seal or ripped the thick yellow parchment. The letter was virtually identical to Steve's.

Bucky looked up from the parchment eagerly. Catching Steve's eye, he grinned. Steve let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and grinned back.

"Now Bucky, tomorrow we shall have to explain all of this to your family. However the wizarding world- the very existence of magic itself- is a secret of the highest degree. Only your immediate family can be allowed to know." Dr. Erskine explained, not unkindly. "Had you not been a wizard you would not have been allowed to know at all."

Bucky nodded. He was good at keeping secrets. "Can I go with you and Steve to the city, to pick up my things?" He asked eagerly.

"If your parents are agreeable I think that would be an excellent idea." Dr. Erskine agreed. "And now Steven, I believe it is time for your presents."

Steve perked up- in the wake of finding out he was a wizard and he would get to go to wizard school with his best friend he completely forgotten that there were presents to be had. Bucky’s face lit up as well. His gift had sat hidden in Becca’s toy chest for three weeks, so Steve wouldn’t find it. Now it was packed in his overnight bag, tucked carefully under his pajamas in a brown paper package tied up with string.

“Bucky, would you like to go first?” Mrs. Rodgers asked kindly.

“Bucky?” Steve said surprised. “You didn’t have to-”

“Aw, can it, pal. ‘Course I got you something.” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. “Who do you think I am?”

Steve looked eagerly after him as Bucky thundered up the stairs to Steve’s room. The anticipation was palpable. Moments later, Bucky tore back downstairs, package in hand. Steve was practically buzzing with excitement. The second the package was in his hands, he tore through it, with none of the decorum he’d shown with his Hogwarts letter. Inside was a pair of shiny blue boxing gloves.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped. “Where- how-?” Steve knew that Bucky’s family was pretty well off, but these looked brand new, and good gloves were expensive.

“I won’em.” Bucky said proudly. “The prize for Spring junior-weight competition at the gym downtown was new gloves. S’why I entered it even though it’s not my normal gym.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute, I remember that… you were practising like nobody’s business. You said it was some really important competition.”

Bucky blushed. “Yeah, well your birthday is important. And it’s not like it cost anything; it was free to enter. Besides, I needed the practice. How else am I supposed to teach you anything?”

Steve gaped at him for a moment before jumping up, whooping with excitement. “You’re gonna teach me to box?!”

“Well someone’s gotta teach you how to win a fight. I can’t always be pulling you outta trouble.” Bucky said, grinning like a madman. “So you like’em?”

“Are you kidding?! This is great!” Steve studied the gloves, tracing his fingers over the cool leather.

“I also got you gauze and tape, to wrap your hands in when you learn.” Buck added proudly.

Steve looked up eagerly. “Where is it?” He asked, eyeing Bucky hopefully.

Bucky grinned knowingly. “I’m keeping it with me so you don’t go and try to learn without me and break your fist.”

Mrs. Rogers laughed at the despondent look on her son’s face. “Bucky knows you a little too well, my love. But cheer up, you’ve got all summer to learn. Now, why don’t you take a look at my present?”

Distracted by the promise of more presents, Steve perked up once more as his mother took out a small black box. Steve opened it with slightly more restraint than he had shown Bucky’s gift. Inside was a jar of ink like Steve had seen in the fancy art supplies stores he sometimes visited, and a beautiful feather quill. His face broke into a grin- he’d always wanted to try painting with ink, but it was expensive, so he’d never dared ask for any. He’d have to mix it with his watercolors if he wanted to paint in color, but Steve can’t bring himself to mind.

His mother gently took the ink and quill out of the box. “I’d been wondering what to get you when Dr. Erskine mentioned seeing this in a store. Now that you know about the wizarding world, I thought it was time you had some magic of your own.” She said coyly, flashing Steve a secretive smile.

“This is color-changing ink. You just hold the quiltip against a color you want to use and say quod color. This dip it in the ink and it will change colors.” Steve’s eyes light up.

“Really? Any color I want?” Steve asked eagerly, eyes wide.

“Any color you want. Go on, try it out.” Sarah said encouragingly.

Steve picked up the quill gingerly, as if it might fall apart in his hand. He looked around, trying to decide on the perfect color to test the ink out with. His eyes settled on the boxing gloves, which are a beautiful shade of darkish blue. He held his breath as he pressed the quiltip against the gloves, careful not to scratch the leather. Enunciating clearly, he said “Quod color.”

Carefully unscrewing the bottle of ink, Steve dipped the quill in watching with bated breath. Immediately, the ink turned the same blue as the gloves. Steve and Bucky gasped in amazement. “Ma, this is incredible!” Steve exclaimed loudly.

Sarah grinned at him. It was remarkable, Dr. Erskine thought with a smile, just how much Sarah Rogers looked like her son.

“Well, I am glad that I will be buying you my gift tomorrow, Steven.” Dr. Erskine said lightly. “I do not think even the sweets that I brought you can follow up a gift such as that.”

“Is that what was in the package you had earlier?” Steve asked slyly.

“Ah, clever boy, I see you have not forgotten. No, that is not what was in the package. That is something I must return to you mother.” Dr. Erskine said.

“It had my name on the card.” Steve said suspiciously.

“Yes, well, it is possible that your mother decided that this item should be passed on to you. It belonged to your father, and your mother has kindly allowed me to hold it for her all these years.” Dr. Erskine explained. Steve suched in a breath, eyes wide, and Bucky whistled lowly.

“It belonged to Dad? Really? Ma, can I see?” Steve begged, turning pleading eyes on his mother. Sarah nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. Steve grinned and jumped up.

“We’ll get it! Come on Buck-” But he was interrupted by Dr. Erskine.

“I think a little bit of magic can be used for this, no?” He said, pulling out his wand. “Watch closely, boys. Accio package!”

The package came whizzing through the air and landed neatly on the table, right in front of Steve.

“Wow!” Steve gasped.

“Cool!” Bucky grinned.

“Indeed.” Dr. Erskine smiled. “You will be able to do that and much more by the time you graduate from Hogwarts. Now, if your mother allows…”

Sarah nodded. “This belonged to your father, Steve. He’d want it to go to you. He’d be so proud of the man you’re becoming.”

Something of his father’s… Steve has a few of his father’s old possessions, but not many. His fingers trembled as he carefully cut the string and unwrapped the paper. Inside was a length of cloth, silvery and silky and soft. Steve pulled it out.

“What is it?” Buky asked, in a confused, hushed voice.

“Why don’t you put it on and find out?” Mrs. Rogers replied, looking to Steve. He fumbled with it for a moment, unsure of how it went on, before throwing it over his shoulders. It fell closed around him, and Bucky let out a gasp.

“Steve! Your body! It’s- it’s gone!” Bucky shot out an arm to grab where Steve’s shoulder should have been. He groped around in midair for a moment before he his hand closed around Steve’s bicep. “You’re invisible!”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he ran to the full length mirror, tripping over the hem of the the cloak. “Wow! Ma, this is incredible! Was it really dad’s?” Steve asked, twisting and turning so as to not see his body from every direction.

“It really was.” Sarah said, smiling as she came up behind him. Steve gaped as he stared at her through where his torso should have been. “He used it to get into a lot of mischief when he was at school. I hope you’ll find a better use for it.”

“Best birthday ever.” Steve breathed.

Sarah pulled her around and hugged him close, so that the cloak fell around her too. “We do our very best. But your birthday’s not over yet. It’s almost time for your fireworks.”

“Do I have to leave the cloak down here?” Steve asked, rubbing the silky material between his fingers.

“I’m afraid so. But I’ve always thought the fireworks had a magic of their own.”

Later, as he leaned over the railing with Bucky to gape at the beauty of Brooklyn’s Fourth of July Fireworks, Steve couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is is! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and if you have, please leave a kudos or a comment! I'd especially love to hear your opinions on what Howgarts Houses the Avengers should be in.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Celcey

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! I hope you've enjoyed part one of this story. The next chapter is mostly written, so it hopefully won't be long before I post it.
> 
> I may or may not continue this after I finish Steve and Bucky's part. I do have chapters of other Avengers getting their letters partially written, but I'm not sure if/when I'll complete them, hence why this is tagged solely as Captain America/the Avengers. This is in part because I haven't 100% solidified what I want everyone's backstories to be, or how I want them to be sorted (since in my mind, this would be part of a larger series about the Avengers' years at Hogwarts). For example, as of right now all the Shield personnel are Hogwarts staff as opposed to students, and while I'm pretty sure that's how I'd like it to be, that could change.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and if you have any ideas on how you'd do a Harry Potter AU, let me know! I'd particularly love to hear what houses you'd put the Avengers and Avenger adjacent characters in. Any and all feedback is more than welcome!


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